Sanity
by you'vegotthis
Summary: Because maybe it should be a scary thing to judge your sanity against Richard Castle's. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1 Hypervigilant

What the meds did.

It had been at her suggestion, after all.

"There must be some pill," she pled, her desperation apparent.

"Medications can help Kate, but not right away," Burke had been practical.

During a later session, as he stood to let her out, he'd handed her the prescription. At first, she didn't realize what the scrap of paper was, but he had pressed it into her hand.

"It's not a bad idea to try them Kate, it's a low dose, see if they help," he'd said calmly.

By the time she got to the parking garage, the thought overwhelmed her. A prescription for anxiety. They'd found her, they'd marked her and all her scars were showing. All the drugs she had taken after her shooting were finally over, her body, her heart, healing. Now she needed drugs to heal her wounded spirit. Holding the prescription as her hands rested on the steering wheel, she felt her heavy head pitch forward as she cried.

It took her six days to decide to get it filled. Not that she had an excuse, there was a pharmacy on every corner in Manhattan. That Friday she'd wrapped up all the major paperwork and no longer had an excuse not to go home. The day before she'd struggled with a rising sense of panic as the SWAT team swarmed the area around a SoHo dance club where her suspect was taken down. She knew she'd have to report it to Dr. Burke, who in turn was going to ask her about that script.

She read all the microscopic-print pamphlets that came with the bottle. Low dose Xanax, little white pills, her momentary salvation. Without touching them, she was recapping the bottle when the phone rang.

"No worries, I finished the paperwork on my own Castle," she quipped immediately.

"Oh detective, how I'd love to trade that monotony for this one, "came his smooth voice above the sounds of soft jazz music and laughter.

"Martha's party?"

"Yes," he replied, ducking into his study and closing the door, "forty exes reliving their fame."

"Exes?"

"You know, ex-actors, ex-dancers, ex-musicians, basically anyone of any influence at one time, every one of them networking with people who don't have networks anymore!"

She laughed softly. "They're trying to mingle with your young blood Castle."

"If one more person suggests to 'try my autobiography manuscript with Black Pawn,' I'm going to need your team's professional services at my place tonight."

"And Alexis isn't distracting them?"

"She's out for the evening, the turncoat."

She settled in on the couch, drawing her legs up as she lay back on the pillows.

"So you're calling me because you're bored?"

"Noooo, I'm calling you because I need entertainment, what are you wearing tonight Detective?"

She snorted. He picked up the drink he poured and sat down at his desk, smiling as he pictured her.

"Okay, what are you not wearing?" he tested.

"I'm hanging up now," they both knew she wouldn't.

"Alright already, I'll tell you what I'm wearing."

"Castle," she was amusingly exasperated.

"White Brooks Brothers with my gold cufflinks," he said even as he started to unfasten them. "Navy Armani jacket . . ."

"Ryan would be impressed," she interrupted.

"You always have the perfect antithesis to my humor Detective, speaking of which, I finished my speech for the New York Times reception today. I'd love to run it by you."

"You want me to read it?"

"Yeah, I want you to read it."

"Why? You've never let me read your stuff before, what's so special about this one?"

"This one is for Heat Rises, it's the first time I've had a number one book on the list. I figure you've got a vested interest, I'm hoping you'll want to go to the reception with me."

There was a pregnant pause.

"I know you don't like all the publicity Kate, but it would mean a lot to me. Come turn my snooze-fest into a snark-fest, okay?"

She used to be so much better about 'no' with him, but lately she'd become a sucker for his genuine requests.

"I don't know Castle, I think this one might cost you," she hooked him.

"Alright, here we go Detective. What do you want? Too clever for money, would look too much like I paid you to be there. Full time food delivery boy at your beck and call? Oops, that sounded like I was hiring you a gigolo, which you totally don't…not going there… Uh, pay off your out-of-control Saks credit card bill? Those new four-inch boots must be taking a pretty penny out of that NYPD check? Oh, I know, I know, I know, keeping you in daily coffee? Nope, some devotee already has that covered. Ah, let me think. . . huh, if those don't work, I'm out of values in the Katherine Beckett world."

"Shut-up wise-ass," he could see the smile as it translated in her voice.

"Oh, just thought of another one," he said pulling his finger from his lips, "giving you a nice, hot, bubble bath."

"Daring."

"If I were being really daring I'd have said 'breakfast' Detective."

"If you were being really daring you'd have said, 'kick the author's ass.'"

Although no one sees it, Richard Castle, responds in a silent fist pump, "yessss, and she finally returns the volley."

"Been waiting on that, have you?"

"Well you haven't been on top of your game for a while," even as he heard himself say it, he cursed himself and held his breath, hoping she would continue their banter.

"Castle?"

'Damn,' he thought. She sounded quiet, more sober.

"Yeah Kate?"

"I'm sorry, I'm working on it."

"Well then you have to come to this Times thing, I feel certain we can get you back in the practice. When people bore us with their next book idea, you can drop hints like, 'just keep that release date out of September' or ooh, 'no one ever suspects the girlfriend in a mystery novel."

"Crazy man," she said softly.

"Takes one to know one. Not the man part, just the crazy part. I don't really roll that way, not that there's anything wrong with that, but you already know that, and not that I think your crazy," he stopped his verbal free-fall, "You know what I mean."

A heartbeat of silence and his voice came back over the line, a little softer, a little less animated, "Kate, you got this, and if you need someone to keep reminding you of that, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

"Sweet man, "she said with the same inflection she had used earlier to call him crazy, "Good night."

"Good night Kate."

Later, when she was almost asleep Castle's words, spoken ages ago, came back to her, "Let me tell you about crazy people. The sex is unbelievable." Someday soon she'd have to remind him of his words.


	2. Chapter 2 Alone

The only passenger smiled self-consciously at her reflection in the window of the cab. So often when Kate caught herself; in photos, in mirrors, in windows – her face was focused, tense. Roy's words echoed and lingered, maybe she wasn't having any fun before Castle. It felt wrong to be happy when life had handed her so much tragedy, so she had focused, and in focusing, she'd lost sight of anything beyond her own emotional wounds. Some people drank, some had casual sex, some over-ate, but Kate Beckett found her vice, her addiction, her driving voice in her deep longing for her mother. She felt it, like a tourniquet, tightening ever harder around all her other emotions. It released itself in her obsession to find justice. It made her worthy as a homicide detective, but suicidal as a survivor.

These past months she had time to reflect on things. Esposito, Ryan, Castle, other cops, she hated the look of pity they had been giving her since her resurrection. Hated it. In her mind, it meant they had a little less respect for her. She was weak and exposed. That's what obsession did. It told you that no one and nothing else mattered. It told her things were black and white. It lied.

It seemed, to Kate, like everyone in the world had someone to love them unconditionally. Moms did that. She knew this from overhearing other women who complained about how their mothers were driving them crazy in the dressing rooms at the mall. She knew it when Castle talked about Martha. She knew it when suspects made phone calls to their mothers to explain they needed a lawyer. Everywhere she looked there were reminders. Reminders that she was alone, reminders she was different. There was a hole where that love should have been.

She wondered if that pain would ever fade.

"Here Miss?" the driver broke her out of her thought process.

"Yeah," she sighed. _Time to make the effort_.

A moment later she was inside, greeting the doorman, pressing the 'up' button, trying to break out of her somber mood.

Judging by the ten seconds between the knock and the door opening, he had been waiting for her.

"Hey Kate."

"Hey Castle."

"Kate! Come in darling, you can help me with the salad," Martha called from the kitchen. She seemed to sense that Kate needed a task to assuage her nervous fidgeting, at least for the first few minutes of their now regular Friday night dinners.

It was really only because she knew she needed to change her pattern, a promise to her therapist, that she dragged herself out of the office early on Fridays. As uncomfortable as it was for her, she always felt better after spending time with the family. Her enjoyment often kept an unaware smile on her face all weekend.

"Detective Beckett, dad says you had a great case this week?" Alexis asked.

"Alexis, I told you before, it's Kate, and yeah it was an interesting one," she continued to cut the carrots, scraping them off the board and into the elegant blue glass bowl. Martha moved around her, fluttering over the final touches.

"Actually, I said the case _sucked_," quipped Castle, "literally!"

"Some guy tried to make it look like his boss's wife was killed by a vampire," Kate interjected, "needless to say, it didn't work."

"Do tell dear," Martha tossed out even as she swept the bowl out from under Kate.

"Richard, the dressing," she commanded. He moved to obey but raised his brows at Kate.

They took their usual seats at the table. Alexis leaned in immediately.

"Every girl at my school is obsessed with vampires right now, romantic fantasies and all."

"Well you, my child, are far too practical to be swept away by such girlish silliness," Castle smiled, "Detective Beckett here didn't fall for it either."

"Hey, I still read girlishly silly books Castle, I just don't take everything at face value."

"You read Stephanie Meyers? Wait, I think I feel some respect for your literary style leaking out," Castle wiped at his feigned tears.

"Hey, I read *you***** too."

"She's got you there dad," Alexis chimed in.

"Touché."

Kate relayed the details to an interested Martha and Alexis, with Castle interjecting and expounding on his view.

"So Esposito is standing over the guy with his gun drawn and Ryan . . ." she giggles and looks into Castle's smiling face, "Ryan has this wooden stake, I don't even know where he got it from, but he's holding over his head," she's imitating Kevin with her arms over head, poised to drive it into their would-be vampire.

All four of them are laughing. He fills her wine glass for the second time as Martha stands to collect the plates.

"Lots of writing material on this case, huh dad? Hey maybe you can create a new genre, Anne Rice meets Agatha Christie? Call it Dystopian Crime."

"You have no idea how proud I am of you," Castle replied dead-pan.

Kate laughed out loud. The sound struck both of them at the same moment. Whether it was the wine or the company, she was definitely freer than she normally allowed herself to be. A long time ago she had made it a game to control her emotions, especially where Castle was concerned. She told herself it was to keep from rewarding him for all his corny jokes, to keep him in check. Unfortunately, that madly practiced control had become pattern, a habit that had been slowly slipping away since her shooting.

Alexis stood to clear more dishes, even as she noticed her dad's riveted attention. The echo of her conversation with him months ago played in her head,

"Yeah, she makes me happy."

Alexis saw it tonight. Kate Beckett and her dad were happy in each other's company. No matter what the past had held, her father was happy when Kate was happy. Alexis saw it reflected in her own relationship with her dad, he was happy when he was grounded in purpose. She wondered if he knew that about himself and made a mental note to talk to him about it later.

"So, Kate, Alexis, mother," Castle cocked his head and eyeballed them a la mad scientist and cackled, "are you ready for our game?"

In a statement of unity only those who knew him well could make, all three rolled their eyes. It was Castle's turn to laugh at the lot. His women.

_His women._

He made an effort to hide his metacognitive moment with humor.

"You know you love it when I challenge you. And I'll remind you, I am undefeated," he teased with pride.

Kate's eyes followed him as he walked across the room to grab the poker box and move it to the table.

"Richard, dear, no one likes a braggart."

"Tonight, you're goin' down," Alexis growled.

Kate leaned forward and put her hands to her face, elbows on the table. Her quiet smile spoke of contentment. He wiggled his brows at her.

"Come on Castle, put up or shut up."

Martha, standing in the door of the refrigerator, turned to Alexis as she passed her the saran-wrapped left overs.

"Well, I must admit, your father is in his element when Kate is around," Martha whispered.

"Oh let him have his play-date, gram."

"At least until they are both old enough to play on their own," Martha whispered back, flipping her hand in the air with flare as she closed the door.

Two hours, a bottle of wine and a tub of ice cream later, Alexis and Martha bid Kate goodnight. Castle put on his coat before holding Kate's out for her to slip her arms into. It had become their routine for him to put her in a cab. It was a compromise between him taking her home, which felt like a date, and her staying over, which felt like more than she could handle.

"Next time, strip poker," he said as soon as they entered the elevator.

"So close, Castle."

He noticeably swallowed.

"So close to making it through a whole night without some kind of innuendo Castle."

"So close and yet so far," he exhaled and leaned back into the corner of the elevator, watching her "besides, sexual innuendo is inappropriate when your teenage daughter and your _mother_ are around." His eyes crinkled as he used his most charming smile on her. He was rewarded with her return smile.

For a moment they locked eyes.

"Kate," he said lifting his chin as he said her name, "I hope you know how much we look forward to having you over."

"Thanks Castle," then she thought for a moment, he deserved more than just those words. Her strangled emotions fought for dominance.

They reached the lobby, Castle calling out a greeting to the sleepy concierge, "Hey Sam."

"Need a taxi Mr. Castle?"

Sam rushed ahead to hail a taxi, as it pulled up, Rick opened the door for Kate. Hooking her left arm around him as she stepped off the curb she pressed a quick kiss to his right cheek. His reflex was to swing his right arm across her lower back. For a moment he held her there, lips pressed to her forehead.

"Goodnight Castle, see you Monday," she whispered not meeting his eyes. She sat down in the cab as he closed the door.

"Goodnight Kate," his voice hoarse and only finding him again after the cab pulled away.

As the driver adjusted the rear-view mirror, the glimmer of the reflection caught the attention of the passenger. The woman staring back wore an easy, natural smile.

It seemed likely that smile would last at least until Monday morning.


	3. Chapter 3 Control issues

Six months since she had risen from the dead. Things were different, but not yet comfortable. She had risen but she hadn't returned. This broken Kate had replaced the headstrong, reckless Beckett. She didn't know what to do with herself, her fever pitch crisis had plunged her into the deeper realities of the life unlived. More than once she heard the mirror reflect back, what the hell are you doing Kate? She ignored it. But then, it wasn't just the mirror anymore. Her father, Castle, and now Espo had told her she was, "not fine." She struggled to recover the ability to know herself better than other people did, for a woman who had always possessed self-control, it was terrifying.

Her mother was the problem. She'd let herself believe the singular loss in her life was her crescendo, let herself believe there would be no more mountain-top experiences worthy of those that came after Johanna Beckett. To be happy after such a loss felt like betrayal, to move on, insolence. "The only one who can disappoint you is you," her counselor consoled her. Maybe it wasn't so much her magical mother as it was her damaged spirit.

At 5 AM on a Saturday, a body dropped. She called Castle, but by the time he showed with coffee at 7:30, the case was solved in a curb-side confession by an eyewitness with blood stained shoes. It was a ridiculous ending to an exhausting week.

"Yo, Beckett, I got this," Esposito grabbed the files from her cradled left arm as he passed.

"Go girl, get out of here."

"Espo . . ." but he was gone. She stood in the middle of the bullpen, dumbfounded.

From behind her, Castle hooked his arm through her now empty bent elbow.

"What are you doing?" She was humorless.

"Grab your coat," he urged.

"What are you doing?" She repeated.

"Grab your coat," he repeated, determination radiating.

He let go when he knew he had her hooked.

"Okay, what is going on?" She demanded once they cleared the building and he wouldn't be led to the car. She was only willing to go so far without an explanation.

"Let's grab breakfast Kate."

"Castle, I'm just going to go home, do you want a ride?"

"Come on Kate, you can't have so much to do that you can't grab breakfast. A bear claw? "

"No, I'm good. I'll see you later."

He watched as she stepped the few feet toward her vehicle, moving her hands from her jacket pocket to her pants pocket.

"What's the matter? "He called to her.

"Can't find my . . ." then she heard it. The tinkling sound of her keys; Castle held them up and shook them.

"Breakfast Kate?"

She stepped toward him, "Castle, how did you get those?"

She reached to grab them when he took a giant step back, she swiped at the air.

"Castle, I'm not playing. I have a week's worth of laundry to catch up on." She took another step toward him.

"Kate," he gave his most somber expression," I'm sorry I should not have teased you, you obviously have a plan. Here," he held out the keys to her.

"Thank you for understanding Castle," she reached for the keys, but he had his finger in the ring and easily snatched them back from her grasp, turning to run away.

She was stunned, but her cop instincts kicked in, she gave chase as he zig-zagged down the sidewalk, evading her hand on his shoulder by circling a small tree growing in the middle of the walk, just out of her reach.

"What are you doing?" She growled.

"Breakfast Kate."

"Do not make me hurt you Castle," by now she was becoming aware of other people on the street. She was pretty sure she could humiliate him like he was humiliating her at the moment. And then he upped the stakes.

She watched him pull back his long Spring raincoat and stuff the keys in the right front pocket of his jeans.

"Do not think that I am incapable of taking those from you Castle."

"Oh Kate, I surrender," he teased, raising his hands in the air.

She cocked her head to the side, gave him her death stare for a moment, and then closed her eyes and relented with a sigh. "Do you promise to give them back when we are done with this breakfast? "

"I swear I will return these to you the moment I am finished with this meal." He raised his hand up and gave the Vulcan salute, quickly changed to the Boy Scout salute and then put his hand over his heart like a pledge.

"All this over breakfast?" She asked exasperated.

"Most important meal of the day, Detective."

They walked down the street to a local coffee shop where he'd ordered her morning pastries before, so she was surprised when, after she ordered a bear claw, he ordered plain toast.

They sat at a little table in the window watching the world go by and drinking coffee, he made up a story on the spot about an older lady and her tiny dog.

Laughing at his silly tale, she had eaten half of her breakfast before she realized he wasn't eating the toast. She furrowed her brows. "What's up Castle?"

"Let's go have some fun today Beckett."

He had his pleading face on, the puppy one, the one she did not surrender to on principle alone.

"Castle, this was nice, thank you. But I told you, I have things to do and you promised to return my keys."

"You're right. I will keep my promise, just like you always keep yours."

He began opening up a napkin, smoothing out the folds.

"Yes, thank you for understanding. We'll have fun another . . ."

She watched him put the toast in the napkin and carefully wrap it up.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping you keep your promise," he put the wrapped toast in his coat pocket.

She waited him out.

"Detective I promised to return your keys the moment I finished this meal. I'm not quite done with it," he stood up, "I think I'll work up a hunger with a walk." With that he walked out of the shop and started down the street.

She tipped her head back until it met the wall behind her chair, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. She really, really hated not being in control.

A slow smile spread across his face as he heard her heals on the sidewalk behind him.

"Where are we going?"

"Oh my god, you can't stand it, can you?"

"What?"

"Having no plan. Not knowing what happens next. You can't stand spontaneous fun!"

"You are confusing spontaneous fun with intermediate sanity, Castle. Where-are-we-going?" She huffed in her most serious tone.

"Come on Detective, I'll help you, I'll give you ten questions."

"Ten, not twenty?" Damn, she knew the minute it was out of her mouth she had lost their game of wills.

"Hey, you're the brilliant interrogator. Break me," he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"I hate this already," she said flatly.

"I *know* isn't it great?" His face was the very picture of joy.

Two blocks later she was on guess number five, she was beginning to notice his annoying fixation with numbers and keeping track. She'd guessed museum, gallery, performance, zoo and store. She was quickly running out of ideas. As they crossed the street he grabbed her wrist to keep them together, when they reached the other side, he didn't let go. They weren't holding hands, but he was leading her, she was being led.

She tried a different tactic.

"Are we staying in Manhattan?"

"Yes."

Thinking about the general business areas around the Precinct and the direction they were headed, she decided to narrow things down.

"Is it near a hotel?"

"No," he stopped dead in his tracks and she ran into him as he looked at her," but I'll note that for next time Detective. Three guesses left."

They were entering the historic residential area.

"Are we visiting someone?" She was thoroughly intrigued.

Somewhere along the way he wasn't holding her wrist, she was holding his elbow and they weren't fighting pedestrian crowds, they were strolling.

"Are you buying a new house?"

"Down to your last question Detective."

Now she knew what to do. She knew how to play her last card. She stopped talking and enjoyed the stroll.

They crossed the street next to a tall gated area and he led her to a door, stopping to produce a key. These were most definitely not her car keys.

"I'll bet you know a guy," she cooed, crowding him.

"How else do you get a key to Gramercy Park?" He said with pride.

He smiled and unlocked the gate for them. He held it open for her, as she passed through she leaned into his ear, "Confession in only nine questions Mr. Castle."

"Damn," he scrunched up his face as she laughed at him.

"Oh Castle, I've always wanted to visit but it's impossible to get a key! This is fantastic." She was genuinely excited to be here.

They strolled through the park taking in the new spring plantings, the artistic statues, the gorgeous old homes surrounding the two square city blocks of the private park. Older people walking their dogs or exercising smiled at them, greeted them like they saw some life history in the pair; she now leaning heavily on their joined arms, he ducking his head to catch every word.

Finally, they came to a little duck pond, teaming with Koi and a small water fountain. He led her to a bench, dramatically faked a yawn and stretched his arms over his head so he could put his arm across the back of her side of the bench.

She shot him an amused smile and leaned back, "Subtle."

They were quiet for a while.

"This is nice Castle. I'm a little sorry I fought you on it."

"A little?" He feigned offense.

She smiled at him, a real smile. "You were right, you were more fun than laundry."

"Nowhere to go but up," he smiled back at her.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out the toast, took his arm back from around the bench and began to tear it up into small pieces. He encouraged Kate to help him throw the crumbs into the water drawing both fish and ducks for a meal. When it was gone, he put his arm around her on the bench and took a moment to look at her.

"What about your breakfast?" She wondered out loud.

"Oh Detective, I ate before I ever left home."


	4. Chapter 4 Fear

Drowning.

"You once said that you were drowning in your mother's murder and that Royce was dry land. What makes Castle different?"

Damn Burke and his questions.

She knew what she had with Castle was not the same. Royce was her confidant during the dark days of dealing with her dad, the aftermath of her mom. The spiral, the need to stop herself from going too far because if she didn't she'd lose her dad too. It was the obsession that drove her, the one she had finally put the brakes on, temporarily, to put her dad back together. Royce was there through it all, but with Royce, he had to be. She was assigned to him. It wasn't a voluntary duty. And maybe that's why it was easier to let him go than it should have been. Royce wasn't the type to get emotionally entangled. He *was* the type that didn't let an opportunity pass by. He hadn't said 'no' when she'd come to him at the end of their year together, when it was time to end her trainee relationship and move to the ranks of rookie. A few beers and the need to disprove her wholesome background in front of her colleagues had led to a lot of flirting; a lot of flirting had led to more. She thought she loved him. She'd been so young, after so much loss, she needed. It didn't' matter what she needed, she took what he gave her. Perhaps the evidence of the kind of relationship they had could be best summed up in what he called her – 'kid.'

_Kid_. Even after she had proved to him that she was most definitely not a kid, she was 24, an adult. A woman.

Now that she thinks about it, compares what she had with Royce to what she has with Rick, she realizes it isn't the same. Isn't nearly the same. She isn't sure that was love, the thing with Royce. And suddenly it's clear. What she could have had, her unwilling correction to a terrible life path.

That whole dry land thing? That was true enough. She was drowning and he was there. He was a presence. She'd washed up on his shore. But if she was really drowning, she needed more than just washing up on shore, she needed another human being. And that's what Castle was, human, physical, emotional, social, psychological and spiritual. She didn't know when, or how, or why he had become all of that, but somehow he had worked his way into all those spaces. The spaces between what she said and what she did, who she was and who she wanted to be.

That's what she told Burke.

"And what are you to him?" That was the haunting question.

It had been one of those steady rain days. The kind that left New York feeling melancholy. The kind that made you sleepy and unwilling to do anything other than reflective thinking. That was exactly the mood Rick was in. He'd spent part of the day at the precinct, left when Kate did, allowing her to believe he didn't know where she was going. It was their dance. For his part, he used the writing excuse, only from the moment he shook the rain from his collar and hung his coat, he'd known there was nothing doing on a day like this.

He was standing at the window in his office, his favorite window, the one with the model sailboat he'd built with Alexis. The one that looked out on the street.

That's how he knew she was coming. He pressed the 'brew' button on the machine just as he heard the buzzer.

"So, I know you didn't just come for my coffee, what's up Kate?" He asked when they were settled at the table, each nursing their usual cup, their relationship prop.

She looked down into her coffee, and took a deep breath before finding his eyes again. "I've been seeing someone." She laughed lightly at his hurt look, realizing his interpretation. "Not like that. I mean professionally, I've been seeing a counselor."

_Oh, that._ He kept his expression neutral.

"He's . . . I've been working through some things since my . . . since this summer. Trying to work out things, things about my mother, my relationships."

He was silent, willing her to continue.

"This summer, I was . . . I was not myself. I couldn't keep my thoughts together, I thought about a lot of things, so many words came back to me, haunted me."

"My words?" He swallowed, remembering things he had said to her in that last fight.

She smiled to comfort him. "Among others. My dad's words too. Roy's." That last one causing her to blink and look away for a moment.

She didn't look at him immediately. "I think if I had talked to you during that time, if I had let you, or Lanie, or anyone else in at that moment, they would have been a crutch. I'd done that before." He looked up at her, confused. "Royce, I did that with Royce, let him create his own solution to my problems. Let him define what I needed to do to fix my life. Only it wasn't a fix I needed, obviously I just buried things because it all came back last Spring. You saw how driven I was, how one-track I was. The wounds were still there, festering. I can't do that again, Rick. I couldn't survive another go-round. I needed to come back on my own, not just bury it, but heal from it."

She waited, needing some kind of response.

"I don't know what to say Kate. Other than I am glad you told me this, it makes last summer . . . easier. Why now?"

She shifted uncomfortably, _why now indeed?_

"Thought it was time. I know I'm not the easiest person to get to know. I know I don't always let on what's on my mind, but you deserve to know Castle. You deserve to know how important you . . . our relationship . . .partnership is to me."

"Me too." The quick response earned a shy smile from her.

He reached across the table between them and took her hand. "Thank you. "

"Have dinner with me?" She had confessed the hard part, building her own determination to become more to him.

"You trying to woo me Detective?" He pulled her hand so she was forced to press her chest against the table, stepping to stand off the stool.

"Who you kidding Castle? I've had you a long time."

He stood up, not releasing her hand and came around to take her in his arms, dance-style, squeezing her. "Yeah, you do Kate."

Her eyes softened. She'd expected him to joke, laugh it off, do their typical diversion from the emotion, only he hadn't. "Castle, am I . . .do I give you enough? I mean, I want to be a better friend to you."

"Kate, I don't want us to be friends. I will take whatever you can give me, but I don't want us to be friends anymore." He searched her eyes to read her response.

"That scares me. You scare me," she whispered and leaned in to put her chin on his shoulder, she didn't know if she could have this conversation looking in his eyes.

"I know, scares me too, I won't push Kate, I won't," he said it like he was convincing himself. "You've got me Kate, I'm not going anywhere, I can wait until I've got you."

She tightened her face to hold back the burning in her eyes. He sensed her emotion and rubbed his hand up and down her back soothingly. They stood like that a long time before she kissed his cheek and stepped back.

"It's still raining out, how about if I make you dinner instead?" She said spontaneously.

"That would make my day."

She had such a surge of emotion for this man in front of her. For everything he meant to her, everything she wanted to be for him. She knew what she wanted to do.

"I make a fantastic thank-you breakfast. That work for you?"

He put his arm around her shoulder and leaned in conspiratorially; leading her to the kitchen, "let me introduce you to the concept of s'morelette, Detective."

That night as she lay in bed she thought about her day and their evening. She thought about the ways she might be able to give him a little more. She didn't need just dry land. He didn't need just a friend. They needed to dive in together and keep each other from drowning.

A/N: Please remember this is not a 1-800 number, appropriate charges apply, you must hit the review button below to avoid charges being applied to your phone bill...


	5. Chapter 5 Depression

On Wednesday , he'd told her he didn't want to be friends anymore. Although she hadn't committed to anything more than making him dinner that night, she now knew they were headed somewhere.

Soon.

She'd had a good week, so this was a surprise. Saturday morning a melancholy came over her so strongly that after she'd dumped her clothes and started the washer, she flopped on her couch. She was on the verge of tears, but over which part of her life, she wasn't entirely sure.

She usually set aside days like this to put her apartment back together, the tyranny of the week leaving chores undone. Case solved meant she no longer had an excuse not to take care of things. A whole day with no real plan. A whole day to be alone. A whole day let her mind run wild with the thoughts she pushed aside all week.

A knock on the door had her immediately checking her composure.

"Castle?"

"I just spent the whole morning at Comicadia," he launched in, not even greeting her as he pushed past her and headed for the coffee table, a box in one hand, Comicadia bag in the other.

A still small voice was telling her his presence was exactly what she needed right now, she pushed it down and followed him into the room.

He turned to look at her, trying to contain his excitement at the same time truly seeing her state, "Got ya something," he held out a plastic sleeve containing a comic book.

"You didn't have to," she starts, eyes wide with surprise when she recognizes it, "wait is this a first edition Elektra?" She's amazed he found it, but more shocked he bought it for her.

They spend hours quietly reading. The new ones he's bought that morning. The box of comics he's been collecting. He looks up from his spot on the couch to see her, legs draped over the armrest of the chair across from him, smiling as she bites her lip in concentration.

He calls in a food order without consulting her. She starts a little at his voice, smiles when he looks up at her to confirm her food, nods.

"I love that you love comic books," she says nonchalantly, like she uses the word regularly, like they already are something and not just moving toward it.

She's in the kitchen before he comes up with a response.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

He's picking the broccoli out of his stir-fry and putting them on her plate. She's told him a hundred times before, "just order it without the broccoli, "but every time they end up in this little ritual, he sends her his broccoli.

She rolls her eyes at him, the conversation doesn't need to be spoken to be understood.

And in her head is the fearless Elektra and her own promise to herself to give more to Castle. And suddenly she needs to not hold back her thoughts.

"Before you came over I was wallowing a bit."

"Hmm," he's paying attention, just has his mouth full.

"This was the perfect way to spend the day, if you'd asked me to go outside I wouldn't have wanted to, if you'd asked permission to come over, I would have refused you. Hell, if you'd given me a choice for lunch I wouldn't even have had an answer. So, how is it you have become a psychic without my knowing it?"

"Well known fact that broccoli suppresses your natural intuition," he says tapping the side of his own head with a finger.

"So what does it say that you keep making me eat yours?"

"Wearing down your defenses Detective."

She throws a napkin at him and gets up to clear the table. His hand is on her arm as she reaches for his plate.

"Wait, we didn't read the fortune cookies."

She sits back down, forgetting the dishes. It's hard to resist Castle's enthusiasm.

His reads his, something about traveling the world. He laughs it off as an ominous sign about his next book tour.

When she reads hers, she realizes she has an opportunity. "Oops, I think I got yours by mistake." She passes the tiny slip of paper to him.

_Your everlasting patience will be rewarded sooner or later._

He looks up at her just as she moves to clear the plates, shoots him a look that communicates she knew exactly what it said and what it meant. As she moves away a slow smile spreads across his face.

Xoxoxoxoxoxox

He's got his box of comics in his hand as she opens the door to let him out. Dinner with Alexis celebrating some senior class award she'd received this week was his excuse. She really wanted to thank him for this, for their day, for their many days. The many times he seems to fix her, but there aren't words that adequately express it. That even come close. So she says what she can.

"Castle," she pulls on the elbow balancing the box, forcing him to lean down a little. She kisses his cheek, "thanks."

"Hmm," his adoration written across his face, still a little too close to hers, she sees him wrestle with himself, "until tomorrow, Kate."

After that it seemed like Kate's Saturday chores were no effort at all.

She didn't actually see him the next day, but she was pretty certain he'd helped her face her father at their usual Sunday lunch. She felt good and that translated to her dad.

On Monday, he handed her the manila envelope with her coffee.

"What's this?"

"The speech, the Times thing. Read it when you get a chance okay?"

She'd avoided thinking about the upcoming event ever since he'd mentioned it the first time. Her face showed her disquiet.

"Hey, if you don't want to, you don't have to." He looked concerned.

"No, Castle, I want to, really."

That seemed to make him happy. He sat back smiling at her. "Thanks."

"I'll go with you."

"What?"

"I'll go with you when you give your speech," she hesitated, "if you want me to."

"Wow, you haven't even read the speech, it's really true, broccoli weakens your inhibitions."

"You said it lowered intuition not inhibitions."

"Po-ta-to, po-tat-o, which by the way I would like much better than broccoli. And I would be honored if you would come with me."

"What does this evening entail?"

"Lots of networking, drinks, the speech, I won't be the only one giving a speech, there will be several others, dinner, more schmoozing, and swimsuits."

"Castle," she said drolly.

"Just wear a nice dress, I'll take care of the rest. Can you handle that?"

"Yeah. It's a date."

He swallowed hard. "A date?" Her answer was a smile.

"Sooner or later, Castle, wasn't that what the cookie said?"

A/N: I eat broccoli and therefore am not intuitive, please leave a review so I know what you are thinking. Just pretend your fortune cookie says, "Review or much misery will befall you."


	6. Chapter 6 Insecure

Sanity 6: Insecure

Looking into the mirror, she smooths her hands over the changing hues of the fabric. Sighing, she thinks of the other dress she owns by this designer, the one she could never wear again because of that scar. Her insecurities are making her fidget, and he was going to be here any minute.

"Ugh," she says at the sound of the buzzer.

"Hey," he greets, taking her in. She did long and lean well, the thigh-length Herve Leger dress showed off her long legs, and the shifting color from Navy through lighter blues to a white hem showed off the lines of her body. The wide single-shoulder strap kept it conservative in showing cleavage, but her pretty shoulders and back were still exposed. It leaves him breathless.

His perusal isn't helping her restlessness.

"You ready?" she finally breaks.

"Ya – no, here," he hands her a bouquet of gorgeous red, purple and white blooms.

"Thanks, Castle, these are beautiful." _And they give me something to do_, she thinks, bringing them to the sink.

He pushes a bottle of champagne into her fridge before coming up to stand next to her. "You look stunning, you know?"

She briefly meets his eyes, a rush of girlish nerves overtaking, "thanks . . . you look good too."

She always was a sucker for a man in a tux, and she was already a sucker for Castle_. Ha, a sucker for Castle_. She feels the blush creeping up her neck.

"Hey, I'm a patient man, remember?" he nudges her hip with his.

She looks up at him, "let's get out of here."

xoxoxoxo

He never let go of her hand after helping her out of the limo, although to be fair, she hadn't let go of his either. He moved her fingers to the crook of his arm as he grabbed drinks and began mingling.

It wasn't until she found herself being introduced to James Patterson that she truly understood where she was and who she was with.

"Patterson, I'd like you to meet Kate Beckett."  
"Your muse? Hey! Ricky's talked about you a lot, nice to finally meet you."

She was speechless a moment before responding, "nice to meet you too."

"Never really had a muse, but Ricky here shares his cases with us at our poker games."

"Well I'm glad he shares _his_ cases, sometimes I do have a hand in solving them," her eyes meet his briefly.

"Don't worry Detective, you come off like a supermodel-superhero, the man is clearly smitten with you."

"Oh," was all she could muster in response, taking another sip of champagne as she looked away from both of them.

He watched her a moment before responding to Patterson, "If smitten gets me the girl and the Best Seller List, I'd say I've one-upped you Patterson."

"If smitten gets you distracted enough to lose at poker, I can live with that," Patterson returns the volley.

As Castle leads her away from the conversation she hisses, "gets you the girl?"

"Hopefully," he says quickly.

"Eventually?" he follows up.

"Makes it sound like we're together."

"Aren't we?"

When she looks away and doesn't answer he tugs her into a hallway, maneuvering her back against a wall and putting both hands on the walls by her shoulders, effectively trapping her.

Alarmed, she stares wide-eyed, "What are you doing?"

"Do you trust me?"

Her eyes dart around for an escape, her hands coming to fidget at her waist, "You're my partner."

"That's not an answer. I told you before Kate, I don't want us to be friends anymore. I can take this slow, but I am sure about this even if you are not. You know I'm more than smitten, if you need me to spell it out after all this time, I will. I want to spend time with you, I want to know everything about you, I want you to know everything about me. I know you are scared, I'm scared too, but we won't ruin things Kate, we won't, we'll just be happier. If you trust me, and I think you do, than trust that . . ."

He's cut off by her fingers at his lips. Her hands cradle his jaw as her thumbs trace his lips.

"Shh," she says calming him, "I know, I trust you. How can I not? How can I deny this? I don't know how you did this, I don't know how you are doing this." There is an intensity in her eyes as she watches him, her eyes shifting, searching his face.

"Doing what?" he softly murmurs, doesn't want to break the spell.

"I don't know how you are becoming the most important person in my world, Castle."

She boldly leans in to replace her thumbs with her lips, kissing him sweetly, softly. His eyes are so soft, adoring when he slowly opens them. "I got the girl?"

She laughs, "yeah, you got the girl."

"Good," he says before he pushes against her and takes advantage of her mouth. One hand at her neck, one at her waist. He can't help but guide her jaw with his thumb as he explores her. The hand her waist pulls her tightly to him. After a moment he slows things down a little, tugs on her lip with his teeth before backing away to rake her in with his eyes.

"Can I take you home?" he's a little breathless, his thumb still circling her hip.

She smiles and shakes her head 'yes' and then 'no'.

"Castle, your speech, "she reminds him.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

"It's a tribute to the fans that Heat Rises even made it on the New York Times Best Seller List. It's been an eventful (_he finds her eyes in the front row_) process writing this third installment of the series. People think I write stories, what I really do is listen to the voices of the characters in my head. Some voices speak louder than others. Some frustrate me, some befriend me, and occasionally some make me want to be a better human being, more interested in the injustices of this world, more compassionate. These characters choose me and I'm glad they allow me to be a vehicle to tell their stories. At the end of the day, if people are entertained by what I write I've done my job, but if at the end of the day, people think a little more about the world around them because of what I write, that gives me a bigger purpose. For an author, that's huge. We tend to be a bit egotistical, we like communicating, but listening is another matter. I aspire to be doing something better with the privileges I've been given. I'm thankful for the privilege of being on the list, and I look forward to the reaction of the readers to my next book."

He bee-lines it for her as soon as he is finished with his speech, fending off Gina and her introductions in the process, but he isn't fast enough.

"Richard," she calls too loudly behind him, "there are some people I'd like you to meet."

He's facing Kate and gives her a comical exasperated face, reaching out to grab her hand before he turns around. She gives him a wide smile before he turns to Gina.

"Certainly Gina, I can give you ten minutes."

"Richard," she warns, "please remember how hard it is to get where you are, can you focus?"

He glances at Kate as she shakes her head in agreement with Gina.  
"Thought you were patient?" she whispers to him.

"Kate, dear," Gina says falsely, "why don't you get yourself a drink." Gina wraps her arm around Rick's, pulling him toward a group of people.

For a moment Kate is uncertain what to do.

"Ah no, Gina, if you want me to mingle at all, I want Kate with me," he holds out his free hand to Kate.

She knows how this looks, a woman on each arm, it brings up all kinds of history, and it shows on her face.

"No, I think I'll go get that drink, thanks." She turns to walk away when she feels his hand on her arm.

"Kate, wait."

"Castle, I'm not . . ."

But she's cut off as he pulls her to him and in front of the crowd, in front of Gina, he kisses her possessively, hard and hot. When she opens her eyes (when did they shut?), he cups her face and says, "we're going."

He casts a glare over his shoulder at Gina, grabs Kate's elbow and pulls her out the front door. He can hear Gina calling for him, exasperated.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

"Don't you ever do anything like that again," she isn't exactly yelling, but her voice has an edge of seriousness that tells him she is humiliated. She's purposefully looking out the window and not at him.

"Kate, I wasn't trying to make a scene," now he's exasperated, "I didn't want you to think that I was in any way still interested in Gina."

"Next time don't do me any favors," she snaps, leaning away from him in the back of the limo.

"This is not how I wanted this evening to go," he says defensively, "I didn't plan for that to happen, it was just a reaction, I saw your face Kate, it isn't fair for you to be upset because I'm doing my job."

"So this is my fault? Do you know how humiliating it is to be manhandled that way? To have you mark me as your territory just when I was starting to trust you with our relationship? I'm an adult Castle, not a child." Ironically, she huffs out a low frustrated scream, like a child, and stands to move to the opposite facing bench in the limo, refusing to look him in the eye.

He presses his hand to his face, she sets her jaw and blinks more often than she should. A long beat of silence follows.

The sounds of the city get louder in the silence between them. Traffic has them stopped, the tension growing by the minute.

Suddenly she's standing, reaching for the handle of the limo, like she's getting out.

"Kate, stop."

"I just want out, Castle," he stretches to hold the door closed, blocking her.

"Please, please, just sit down for a moment, I'll have him stop at the curb if you need to get out."

Now she's wiping away silent tears and he feels like an ass as she sits back in her seat, her body showing all kinds of stiff tension, he knows better than to try and touch her when she's rigid like this.

"I don't know what I can say Kate," he whispers, "I don't know how to fix this other than to tell you I'm sorry, I'm so very sorry, and I don't want to fight. I won't ever put you in that position again."

She isn't responding one way or another, which makes him think she might be open to at least hearing him out, "I just don't want us to take a step backward. I don't want you to think you aren't the center of my world too."

She's quiet a moment longer, crosses her arms, and spits out the words, "I want to go home Castle."


	7. Chapter 7 Stubborn

Sanity, Chapter 7, Stubborn

It's been six days and every damn time she opens her refrigerator door, she sees the bottle of champagne he brought for that night. To top it off, last night she missed her regular Friday night dinner with his family. In fact, she hadn't eaten at all, she felt nauseous every time she thought about the way they'd left things.

She'd expected him in the precinct on Monday, but by lunch, it was clear he wasn't showing up.

"You and dad have a fight?" Ryan asked. Esposito had to pull him back from her glare.

Tuesday's body drop and the subsequent investigation left her empty. She really wanted to talk to him about the case, but her pride was in the way.

She was too hard on their suspect, forcing Esposito to take over the interrogation, while she skulked in the observation room. His quick chastisement of "pull it together Beckett," stung her.

All day Friday she'd checked her phone, now with a desperate hope that something would change, that she wouldn't have to leave her comfort zone. It wasn't pride standing in her way, it was fear. She'd begun to re-evaluate her actions.

She wasn't sleeping well.

Burke had been none too happy with her response to Castle either. In fact, he'd pointed out that maybe Castle had his own insecurities about her, and that explained a lot of his behavior. "He did apologize Kate," he seemed to be chastising her, or maybe she was just hearing what her conscience was already telling her.

She bit her lip and decided to push it out of her mind with a run.

It didn't help.

Neither did the mid-morning bubble bath or the energy she put into doing household chores. By three o'clock on a Saturday, she was out of excuses.

_I'm sorry too_, was all she wrote in the text message.

xoxoxoxoxo

Twenty minutes later, _come over,_ was the reply. She really didn't want to, she wanted him to come to her, but she knew it was unfair to expect him to. He was taking the olive branch, but was going to pull her along with it.

She spent a good five minutes outside his door, knowing this was big, she was diving in. Wasn't this what she wanted when she thought she should give him more? She didn't want things to change, she was good with the way things were, she was happy. Almost.

He heard the tentative knock on the door.

"I'm sorry," she said as soon as he opened it.

"Me too," he held out his arms in invitation.

"This whole thing was stupid," she said into his shoulder, "I'm sorry I didn't forgive you, you deserved that."

"I'm sorry I pushed you even when I said I wouldn't," he told her, stroking her back.

They stood there a few moments before he pulled her into the apartment and closed the door.

"Mother and Alexis are out for the evening, come sit with me. I think we should talk."

She followed him to the couch sat in one corner, close enough that she could touch his arm as he laid it across the back of the furniture from his corner.

"Castle, I know you know I am still getting my bearings after . . ., I want us to go back to the way we used to be. I just want to feel normal again."

"Kate, I know you will get your bearings again," he touched her arm, ducked to catch her eye, to emphasize, "I know you will. But I don't want us to go back Kate, I want us to go forward."

She reached out for his hand, laced their fingers together.

"I missed you, this week, I missed you," she searched his face, "I'm sorry I keep making you wait on me."

"Then stop being scared, Kate. We," he motioned a hand between them, "are inevitable," he grinned widely at her.

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because I love you Kate Beckett."

She was stunned he'd said it aloud.

He quickly followed it with, "don't freak out."

She started giggling, covered her mouth with her hand, tried to look him in the eye, which only made her laugh harder.

He looked dismayed.

She couldn't contain herself, took her hand away from her mouth, a full out laugh caused her to double over and shake her head. She was almost drunk on it. Tears actually springing from her eyes.

He now looked horrified, _god, was she laughing at him?_

"Castle," she could barely get the words out, "of all the things I have to 'freak out' about, those words are not at the top of the list."

When he still looked dumbfounded, she set him straight, "I love you too."

Now he had a reason to look dumbfounded. Elated, but confused.  
But she kept laughing. "Kate, this isn't funny," he was starting to worry about her sanity.

"Castle, I was shot, I have PTSD, I'm a workaholic, those are things to freak out about," she pulled herself up on her knees on the couch, "you are something I stopped freaking out about a long time ago. Whatever we are, it is the opposite of freaking out," she put her hands on his shoulders.

He moved his hands to her waist, took an audibly deep breath, and pressed his head against her sternum. "Kate you are killing me."

"I know, I'm sorry, you just need to really hear this," she rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, "I love you for sticking by me through all of my craziness, all of my issues, for making me laugh when I didn't know I wanted to. You were right, we aren't going to ruin this. I'm sure we'll both be stupid again, I'll want space and time, but I love you, you deserve to know that."

He lifted his head and looked in her eyes, her hands cupping his cheeks, she bent to kiss him, poured into it all her newly expressed love, all her gratitude.

He pulled her flush to him, wrapped his arms around her waist, pull her into his lap. He nuzzled her jaw, kissed her neck.

"Kate Beckett you are insane."

"Yeah Castle maybe I am, but that's what you love about me."

"Always."

"Come on Castle," she grabbed his hand, "someone once told me that sex with crazy people was the best kind."

Fin.


End file.
